


Pizza Creeper

by AlleiraDayne



Series: Bang Your Head (Metal Health) [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is back in the field for the first time in eons and misses Amallia something fierce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza Creeper

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt on Tumblr. Texts From Last Night, prompt: [text] The pizza guy came back thirty mins later to ask me out. I guess he figures if I'm eating pizza alone I must have gotten dumped for Cullen x Mal in your modern AU :D

> _AT: I miss you._
> 
> _CR: I know, I miss you too._
> 
> _AT: How much longer?_
> 
> _CR: A couple days. Three at most._

He hadn’t seen her in a week and the ache of withdrawal coupled with his longing to see Amallia hammered home a migraine right behind his eyes. He squinted, rubbing his face roughly as he lay on his stomach, dark tarp covering him and his scope. Ashara lay next to him, scope in hand, as they staked out the military office across the street. The bright screen of his phone lit up his face with an eerie blue glow.

“Put that away, you’ll get us killed,” Ashara spat.

She was right, he knew, but he reluctantly tucked the device away in his vest pocket. “Sorry.”

She grunted in acceptance. “I know you miss her, but we have a job to do.” The small woman shifted on her platform, stretching as best as she could in the cramped space.

Cullen knew her discomfort. Between the two of them, Krem, and Barris, their team had a constant watch on the small military office near Kirkwall, waiting for any signs of life. Two days in and they had not seen hide nor hair of anyone coming or going to the small building.

The sudden vibration and subsequent chirrup of his phone startled him. Ashara scoffed in annoyance, her scope clattering to the floor, and Cullen knew she would only scold him further as he withdrew his phone from the vest pocket.

> _AT: So the pizza guy just came back._

What in the Void was she talking about?

> _CR: Come again?_

“I will slap that thing out of your hands and crush it if you do not put it away,” Ashara hissed through gritted teeth.

Cullen shot her a look of admonishment. “Why do you think you can talk to me like that? I’m your boss.”

“Because I’m your best damn agent,” she snapped. “Besides, you’re my friend first and I don’t like seeing my friends slacking off on the job.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not slacking off, that’s just ridic—” The buzz of his phone interrupted him and his eyes darted to the screen again, Ashara scoffing with disgust.

> _AT: The pizza guy came back thirty mins later to ask me out. I guess he figured if I’m eating pizza alone, I must have gotten dumped._

Cullen groaned so loudly, Ashara backhanded him on the shoulder. “Seriously, pay the fuck attention,” she directed as she pointed to the building. Her glare brooked no argument, forcing Cullen to type a hurried response and place the phone back in his vest.

> _CR:_   _I promise I’ll be home in two days_.

Silence descended on their lookout, and, paired with the inky black darkness of night, the surroundings pressed in, suffocating. Too warm, too tight, too small. Why had he volunteered for this mission? Everything about it was a distinct reminder why he was no longer in the field; every minute he lay on his stomach, staring through the scope, he felt the tug, the pull, the absolute _necessity_  for the lyrium that once ran wild through his veins. Odd and unprepared, the lack of lyrium left him feeling less than, wholly inadequate in the line of duty once more.

But work was the line of duty no longer. He reminded himself of that fact regularly, almost daily, and the clear, distinct difference between the work of the security firm and that of a Templar in the military was the only thing that kept him from taking the drug again.

Well, one of the things. His phone chirruped as another reminder, and he grinned, nearly laughing to himself at the well-timed message from the one person in his life that had given him hope. He dug his phone out one more time, prepared for Ashara’s disappointment.

A rush of panicked arousal heated his groin as his eyes set upon the image on his phone, and his failure to bite back the moan that escaped his lips grabbed Ashara’s attention immediately.

“Okay, I get to see it, too, if you’re going to start sexting each other,” she demanded.

Cullen shoved the phone under his chest. “You will _not_. Just … bear with me for five minutes? I haven’t talked to her in three days.”

Ashara’s flattened expression softened as she grinned. “I still get to see it later?”

Cullen scoffed with a laugh. “Ask her yourself, you have her number. Maybe she’ll send it to you, too.”

His agent grunted in disapproval, returning to the duty at hand as Cullen retrieved his phone from beneath him. 

There, sprawled on  _his_  couch, lay Amallia in nothing but a skimpy, lace bra and underwear. The electric glow of the t.v. cast a haunting light across her body, visible from the collar down, and he could barely make out the distinct shape of an icy cold bottle of beer nestled right against her mound between her pale thighs, her long fingers wrapped tightly around the neck.

Maker, what was he  _doing_  out here? He could be home. With her. And with that thought he answered his own question. He was in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Kirkwall for Amallia. But the sight of her nearly naked body – and that delicious bottle a beer between her legs – fanned alight a flame in him he would be forced to relieve. Sooner, rather than later.

> _CR: Please tell me you did_ not _answer the door like that._
> 
> _AT: He was kind of cute._
> 
> _CR: Mal …_

A lengthy pause, before his phone chirruped again, this time displaying an image of her standing before a mirror wearing his Lake Calenhad athletics t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants. They were far too large on her, but the sight of her in  _his_  clothes was almost as arousing as the sight of her nearly naked body.  _Almost_.

> _AT: I told him I wasn’t interested._
> 
> _CR: Good._
> 
> _AT: He gave me his number anyway._
> 
> _CR: And?_
> 
> _AT: I blocked it immediately._
> 
> _CR: Remind me to never creep you out._
> 
> _AT: Let’s see, following me around town for a year, stalking me at my performances, watching me swim in my pool from your office window, calling me for help when you’re sick, and moving into the same apartment complex – across the hall no less – without telling me. You’ve creeped me out plenty already._

She was joking. She had to be. Right? As if on cue, another messaged appeared on the screen.

> _AT: And yet, I love you all the same and no creepy but sorta cute pizza delivery guy could steal me away from you._
> 
> _CR: I am not a creeper._
> 
> _AT: You are, and I wouldn’t have you any other way._
> 
> _CR: That’s not—_

An empty shell casing clipped his head just above the ear. When he looked to Ashara, Cullen swore he had pissed his pants.

“Your five minutes are up, phone away!”

> _CR: I have to go, Ash is going to kill me if I keep screwing around on my phone._
> 
> _AT: Good night, love._
> 
> _CR: Good night, pup._


End file.
